Fever
by Beagairbheag
Summary: Set during Captain Wentworth's years at sea and those that come after. Frederick falls ill and a few things come to light. Persuasion based story. Reviews appreciated.
1. Chapter 1

There are not enough Persuasion stories out there, so I decided to try my hand at writing one. Persuasion has to be my joint favourite, if not complete favourite, Jane Austen novel and I hope I do it justice. This is chapter one of two and I hope to have the other one up by the end of the year.

Beware that I am working on improving my grammar and any help/suggestions you can give me on that would be gratefully received. Thank You.

* * *

The six o'clock call had just been made across the ship and, slowly but surely, sailors where waking up and marking a start on their morning chores. Breakfast was being prepared, hammocks where being folded and stowed away while others who had been on night watch, where just going to bed.

The sun was slowly rising in the east, casting a pink and orange tinge over the ever lightening sky. There was a slight breeze in the air and it ruffled the hair on the head of Captain Harry Harville.

Harville stood at the bow of the ship. His gaze drifting over the still water all around and the sun making its accent into the sky, lighting up the dark and chasing the moon away.

He was still standing there 30 minutes later, with the morning hustle and bustle of ship life going on about him, when the cabin boy found him.

"Captain Harville. The Doctor is wishing to see you Sir. It is the Captain Sir, he is unwell" the young lad said as he came to a halt beside Harville.

Harville's first reaction to this message, was to raise his eyebrows in surprise. In all the time he had known Captain Frederick Wentworth, he had never fallen ill. Not even with the simplest cold or sniffle. To hear that he was, and that the Doctor was seeing to him, made Harville extremely surprised though slightly worried. Since he had never succumbed before to illness, surely it had had to be something serious to fell Frederick now?

With these thoughts swirling round his head Harville made his way inside and to the Captain's quarters, the small area not quite living up to its description for it was more like an oversized small closet.

Upon knocking and entering the room, Harville's gaze was immediately caught by the site before him. Frederick lay on the bed in the far corner, his body tangled in sweat soaked sheets. Dr John Matthews, the ships physician, was bent over him drawing a wet cloth over his face and neck, trying to cool the fever that was sweeping the body of his friend.

Matthews looked up when he heard the door open and gave a curt nod when he saw who entered the room before going back to his task. Harville drew nearer to the bed and a sharp intake of breath could be heard when he caught a full glimpse of his friend.

Fredrick's face was pale for the most part though his cheeks glowed with a bright red hue, while his hair was plastered to his head with sweat. The place in which he lay looked as though someone had poured several buckets of water over it and as Harville came closer, he could hear the laboured breathing of his friend as though he had just run for miles.

"How is he?" Harville said quietly as he took a seat on the end of the bed.

"Not good but better than he was" the Doctor replied as he continued to wash Frederick down.

"Better than, how long has he been like this?"

"A couple of hours. He was feeling unwell over dinner and went to bed early, when Jones could not wake him around four this morning they sent for me"

"Why was I not informed sooner?" Harville asked, his eyes leaving the prone body of his friend for the first time and settling on Matthews.

"You had just finished a long shift and needed your sleep, I saw no reason to wake you" came the Doctors firm reply "You would not have helped any and if you had have been woken that early, you would have been a walking corpse by now"

At that point Frederick let out a groan and Harville reached across to grasp at his friends wrist, as the arm started to fail about. When his hand came in contact Fredericks burning skin, his friend opened his eyes.

A look of confusion crossed his features and his eyes danced wildly, seemingly unable to settle on anything or anyone in particular.

"Frederick! Frederick it is me, Harville. Can you hear me?"

"He is too far into the fever to," Matthews began before cutting of abruptly and leaning closer to the head of the bed, and that of the patient.

"Frederick it is John. You are going to have to speak up if we are to hear you"

"Where is she?" Frederick Wentworth rasped out, his eyes continuing to dart about the small room.

"Where is who?"

"Anne! Where is Anne? I must speak with her" and with that Frederick tried to get out of the bed. It took the combined strength of both Matthews and Harville to prevent him from accomplishing his task and he lay back down heavily, still crying out for Anne.

The Doctor hollered to someone standing outside the door and it opened, admitting his apprentice. Matthews bade the young man to fetch his box of herbs from his room and to bring the small locked box back with him.

As the young man set of on his task, Harville turned to look at Matthews, a question in his expression.

"It'll do him no good failing around like this," Matthews said as he attempted to bath Fredericks body with the cool cloth while at the same time trying to keep him laying still between the covers. "His body needs rest if he is to beat this fever"

Harville looked his friend and Captain over. He had not stopped trying to escape from the confines of the sheets though he his struggles had diminished greatly. His eyes still roved the room in an erratic manner while he still cried out for someone called Anne. Sitting by his friends side, Harville racked his brains trying to remember if Frederick had ever mentioned anyone by that name but came up empty.

The young apprentice returned quickly and was immediately set to work by Dr Matthews. Taking a key from a chain around his neck, Dr Matthews mentioned for the man to take it and open the small ornate wooden box. Upon opening it the apprentice held it out to the doctor, who removed a few small leather pouches from it before closing the lid and locking it up once again.

Taking the pouches from Dr Matthews, the young man set about measuring up amounts of powder as per the Doctors instructions. Setting them out in small piles upon small pieces of paper. After he had all the amounts set out, he poured them all into a small mortar bowl, added a small amount of water and began to mix the lot together with the pestle.

He passed the jar to Matthews when he had finished and Doctor took an experimental sniff of the ingredients before nodding his head to the young man who sat as if on tenterhooks, waiting to see if he had done right.

Setting his hand behind Frederick's head, Matthews propped him up and began to pour the liquid down his throat. Small amounts at a time to prevent Frederick from chocking or spitting the whole lot back up again.

Laying Fredericks head back down, the Doctor continued to bath him. Taking a cool cloth from the bowl it had been sitting in, he wiped it across his friends face and neck. Hoping that it would help to relieve his fever. Harville continued to hold Frederick in place and to try and interpret his mumblings.

Both men where at their job throughout the whole morning and afternoon. The mixture of liquid that Doctor had given to Frederick the first time did not do him much good and Matthews was fearful of giving him more in such a short period of time, so much so that both men waited on their Captain till early evening when the Doctor was able to make a slightly more potent mixture which sent their patient of into a peaceful nights sleep.

As Frederick's eyes shut, Matthews motioned to Harville and the two men left the room. They both walked out to the deck, each giving brief explanations of the Captains condition to the men that asked.

Harville lent over the side of the ship, his elbows against the wood, savouring the feel of the light breeze against the heat of his skin and idly wondered if he should be spending so much time in Fredericks sick room. It would not do if he got sick as well.

"This Anne he speaks of, do you know her?" Matthews said as he came to stand beside Harville. Instead of leaning of the side he stood with his back against it.

Harville shook his head "She is not family"

The Doctor snorted.

"I never once thought that she was," he said, turning and assuming the same position as Harville "His calls for her, they are too passionate, filled with too much longing for her to be a sister or a mother"

"He has never mentioned anyone else," Harville said quietly "Never has he mentioned a woman to me, neither a sweetheart nor a lady in port" His voice trailed off towards the end. Had his friend been keeping something, or rather someone, from him?

"Just because he has never mentioned them, doesn't mean they don't exist" the Doctor stated.

"Come on John, how long have you known Frederick?" Harville said as he straightened up "You can bet that if their was anyone in his life like that then we'd never hear the end of it," he smiled "He'd talk till our ears where bleeding and his throat was worn away. Surely you remember the infamous Lady Cassandra."

Matthews smiled. He remembered the young Captain had been enamoured with the slightly older woman that he had met at a dance in Portsmouth. He had gone on and on about her to his friends till he had mentioned her to his new brother-in-law, who had promptly set the young man straight as to what sort of "lady" Ms Cassandra was.

"He is not calling for her though" the Doctor pointed out as Harville racked his brains, trying to remember if his friend had ever mentioned anyone with the name of Anne.

"I'm drawing a blank here. I don't think he's ever mentioned anyone by that name" Harville said eventually.

The two men both stood starring out into the sea and at the sun going down in the West. The ship was heading South, towards the island of -----. They had been heading in that direction already but the voyage had been sped up during the day on the Doctors orders, who had felt that he would be able to treat the Captain better, while in port. The fresh water would be a bonus as well.

"Perhaps, when he is feeling better, he will tell us about her" the Doctor said

Now it was Harvilles turn to snort.

"I thought you knew Frederick, John. If he has not mentioned her before, he is not likely to tell us about her now. No, we would be better to ask now and try to unravel his mumblings. We might have better luck getting information out of him now rather than later"


	2. Chapter 2

_My muse felt like continuing this..._

Someone was pounding on the door, he was sure of it. A steady thump, thump, thump, which sounded so loud in his ears, that he imagined that he had fallen asleep in his chair by the door. The thumping continued though he had shouted for it to stop, for whoever it was to be admitted and for them to state their business.

He did all this in darkness. Unaware that it was his eyes that where shut, he believed it was the middle of the night and the man had not brought one with him.

_Foolish, _Frederick thought, _to walk around the inside of a ship in the pitch black with no candle to guide you. Except, perhaps, in the store room I think. The munitions store room that is. It would be a very bad idea to go in there with a naked candle._

He shouted for one to be lit, and received only mumble replies to his order.

When the order was not carried out immediately, he shouted again. Throwing his head back and yelling, crying himself hoarse in the attempt to have some light within his quarters.

Slowly, he became aware of the voices around him. All mumbling and muttering to him in gentle tones, and it throw his mind back to another time, a few years back, when a sweet gentle voice had murmured in his ear after he had whispered words of love into hers.

"Anne," he said raggedly. Gasping the name out as though it was the only thing in the world that he wanted, and in truth, it was. Though his head often clouded his heart and he often found it difficult to think of her without some type of contempt, he still thought of her, and often. Not long after being posted onto the Laconia, he had thought to write to her, to renew their acquaintance but had eventually decided against it.

A newly made crusader of the seas he might have been, a captain weathered by mother nature and those who sailed upon her crushing waters, but he was still a man, and the thought, the very idea, of writing to a woman who at one time had been all he could think about, both present and future, terrified him. More than he was willing to admit, even to himself.

"I do not know this Anne you speak off," came a voice from above, "But I should dearly love to meet her."

_I know that voice_, Frederick thought to himself, struggling to push through the thick fog that seemed to cloud his every move. Both physically and mentally.

"Come on Freddy, open those eyes for me," the voice was now dripping something to his face, and Frederick opened his mouth wide, eager to drink up the precious liquid and cool his parched throat.

_I hate that name_, he thought bitterly, _and I know of only one person who takes great joy in using it_.

Slowly, he forced his eyes open. He was greeted by a fierce, blinding light and instantly groaned, snapping his eyes shut again. Hurried shouts, orders, and the light dimmed.

"Come on Frederick; don't go all shy on us now. You've been talking all night." This time it was another voice, another he knew equally as well as the first.

He tried again. His time he managed to open his eyes fully, blinking several times to clear his cloudy vision and regain his focus.

The faces in the room came into focus one by one. The nearest, for he sat on the bed, Frederick recognised as the ships doctor and his good friend, John Matthews. The man standing just over his shoulder, Frederick squinted, had to be Harville. There was another man in the far corner of his, pitiful, captain's cabin, but he quickly vanished out the door.

He made an attempt to raise his arm, to wipe the sweat from his forehead, but even the smallest movement proved too taxing and he dropped it back down the couple of inches he had managed to raise it.

Turning his head, he regarded Matthews as the doctor in turn, watched him.

"What?" he managed to croak out. Opening and closing his mouth several times, he tried to wet his mouth, and was thankful when the doctor poured a little more water into his mouth.

"Can you not give him more than that?" he heard Harville ask, and he imagined Matthews shaking his head.

"I need to make sure his stomach can take it. Over loading him with water, when he has had nothing for the past two days, would almost definitely cause him to lose it and put our work back a couple of hours. This way, he gets the nourishment he needs and we can be guaranteed that, in a little while, he can take something more solid."

Frederick tried again.

"What?" was as far as he got.

"What happened?" the Doctor said, and Frederick nodded, instantly regretting the move as his head swam.

"You fell sick, Frederick," came Harville's voice from behind. Matthews nodded in agreement.

"You where struck down with a fever. Too much work, not enough rest, or food, would be my guess as to the cause. Really Frederick, you must start taking better care of yourself. Otherwise," he said, getting up, "You might never make it back to this Anne we have heard so much about."

They both watched as Fredericks eyes snapped open, and fixed them with such a gaze, such a clear gaze for one that had been stricken with fever for the last 48 hours.

"Who?" he asked, unsure that he actually heard the name right.

_Why would they been talking about her?_

"I'm afraid I do not know her second name lad, you never mentioned it."

"I never," Frederick asked, confused. His head was spinning again.

"Do not tease him, John. He does not remember."

"Well, when he is better, we shall remind him. Preferably over a couple of bottles of good French wine."

Frederick groaned again, shifting his position in the bed, trying to find a comfy spot.

"Don't you dare go to sleep, Frederick. Do you hear me? You have to eat something before going back to sleep."

He moaned in response, and forced his eyes to stay open. Matthews moved from his spot by the bed, and Harville came closer, concern mingled with relief dominated his facial expressions. Frederick tried to move again, this time into a seated position that he hoped would help him keep his eyes open. Harville shifted to help him, taking a seat on the edge of the thin bed after he was finished and took the bowl of soup that Matthews handed over to him.

Frederick protested at being hand fed like a babe, but his stomach did not.

They all sat in silence as he ate. The doctor was closing watching his patient, eyes picking out the signs that others might miss. The clearer of Fredericks eyes, the colour slowly returning to his face and the decrease in the amount of perspiration that covered his body.

Before he was even finished, Frederick felt his eye lids dropping. He ate his last few mouthfuls with his eyes partially shut, trusting Harville to find the way to his mouth and not spill the lot down his front.

Satisfied that he had eaten enough, the Doctor let him sleep. This one, he was certain, was a truth sleep, and would benefit the young captain. Hopefully restoring him to full strength, or as near as.

Both of the men exited the cabin shortly after and left Frederick to his sleep, each exhausted from their own night visuals. Falling into their respective beds, telling those around them only to wake them if the Captain became worse, or woke, or they reached port.

The two things happened simultaneously. The bump of them docking in Port --, caused Frederick to wake from his sleep with a jolt.

For a moment he was unsure as to where he was. In his dream, he had been in a nameless place, in a time long forgotten or not yet happened, with Anne. They had been alone and it had been all smiles, and words of love for one another.

Shaking his head slightly to clear those thoughts from them, but not enough to cause his head to ache, he said to himself that he was glad that he had been woken when he had. Dreams like those almost always ended in him waking with an aching need for her, or for the dream to turn sour and turn into a nightmare of some description. He had had them all. Each scenario, played out in front of him, and he had had no escape from them.

They had been docked at the Island of -- for three days before Matthews allowed his patient to leave his bed, and it was a week before he deemed him fit enough for active duty. And even then, his every move was watched carefully by the Doctor.

There pulling into port had come at a good time. Ships that sailed up behind them, came in weary and in states of disrepair from being battered by a continuous group of storms that lingered out on the open sea, willing to pull apart and toy with any ship that they met.

"I bet you are glad we decided to plough on now," Harville said to Frederick as they stood on the bow of the Laconia, surveying the ships around them and the damage that they had suffered.

"I had nothing to do with it," Frederick reminded him, leaving his post and heading below deck to his own cabin. As he stooped to enter the doorway, he surveyed the space and thought to himself that it was about time he moved the furniture about to see if he could create a little more space. The cabin was still feeling a little stuffy.

The two men settled themselves down at the table within the room, and began to go through the ships records. The accounts, the wages and the supply lists all had to be gone over, they had to make sure the men where paid and that they had enough supplies to last them till they next pulled in at port.

It was a little while later when Doctor Matthews entered the cabin without so much as a knock.

"How many bottles shall it take, Frederick?" Matthews asked, standing at the edge of Frederick's table. He placed the wooden chest he was carrying down, and looking at his friend. Harville eyed the chest with unsuppressed interest.

"For what?"

"For you to tell us all about Anne?" the Doctor asked.

Frederick, who had just taken a sip of water, spat it back out. Leaving water marks all over the documents he was meant to be inspecting.

"Pardon?" he spluttered.

"I told you he wouldn't remember," Harville said to Matthews, while at the same time reaching out to the chest. John swatted his hand away.

"When you where feverish," he told him, "You spook of an Anne, in the most…intimate terms. She is obliviously someone you care about, and I am wondering how many bottles of wine it shall take to get you to tell us the whole story."

Frederick just stared at him.

Had he really spoken about, called for, Anne whilst he had been ill?

"Shall it be more than six?" he asked, turning the key on the chest, and opening it to reveal a selection of six, expensive French wine bottles.

Harville let out a cry of joy, reaching across the table to lift a bottle out and examine it. This time, the Doctor let him.

"Where on earth did you get that?" was Fredericks only question.

"It fell off the back of a ship," was the Doctors only reply.

* * *


	3. Chapter 3

I'm trying a little something different - Jumping forward a few years and then going back in time as Frederick remembers it. Let me know if you like it.

If you haven't seen the recent interpretation of Persuasion, staring Sally Hawkins and the truly edible Rupert Penry-Jones (_pauses to wipe drool from face_) the beginning scene might not make much sense to you, but it was one of the part of the whole show that I liked.

* * *

It was many years later when Frederick finally allowed his mind to wonder back to that drunken night aboard the Laconia, and the week that had preceded it. He doubted whether it would have ever resurfaced in his mind, had not Anne's introduction to Harville gone the way it had.

"Miss Elliot?" Harville had enquired when they where introduced for the first time, face to face, and Frederick was immediately thrown back five years previous, to a mooring off the coast of -- Island and a case of rather expensive, and well made, French wine. He had forgotten that Harville had known the name of Elliot long before that met one another on the shoreline at Lyme.

His almost missed Hartville's attempt at seeking confirmation that this was indeed the very same Miss Elliot that he had heard so much about, "Miss Anne Elliot?" he had asked with a sideways glance at Frederick.

Looking away, Frederick wondered how much Harville would actually remember from that night. They had made it through a bottle of wine each before the real conversation had started in earnest and had continued drinking throughout. He had found that the more he drank, the easier it was to talk.

"_Remind me again where you got this stuff John," Frederick asked as the Doctor poured him yet another glass of wine, from yet another opened bottle of wine. By his count, that would make it three they had gone through in the fairly short period of time since they has sat down. Roughly a bottle each._

"_Does it really matter?" Matthews asked, pouring himself a glass as he sat back down._

"_Not particularly," Frederick conceded, swirling the liquid round in his cup before taking a swig of it. Wine wasn't usually his choice as an after dinner drink, but he found that he actually liked this one. "I just quite like the taste, and wondered where I might procure some of my own."_

"_I would be happy to get you some, should you require it," Matthews told him. "But come now Frederick, you have stalled us long enough."_

"_I have?" Frederick asked. He gave his head a slight shake before quickly deciding afterwards, that that was not the best thing to do._

"_You where going to tell us of Anne," Harville reminded him, speaking up._

"_I was?"_

"_You can not be that far in your cups already Frederick," the Doctor told him, and Frederick sighed. Unfortunately he was not, though given a couple more glasses he might be, and so might they. Perhaps he could tell his story and be safe in the knowledge that they might not even remember it come the morning. _

_Especially if they continued to drink at the rate they where going._

"_Anne," Frederick began, looking slightly wistful. It dawned on him that this would be the first time that he had had to tell anyone the story. Those who already knew did not speak of it, and he did not bring it up. "What date is it today?" he enquired suddenly._

"_The 8__th__ of August," Harville told him._

"_1809."_

_Matthews looked at him. "Well, now that we have established that you are clear headed enough to remember the year, shall you get on with it?"_

_There was a small bowl of peanuts in the centre of the table, and Frederick threw one of them at the Doctor. "The date is important," he said. "It is just under four years that I met her, but only three and a bit since she broke my heart."_

_Pausing, he took a drink of wine, holding his cup out afterwards for Matthews to refill it. Deciding that if he was going to tell this story, he had best have some liquid encouragement._

"_I have told you both about my brother, Edward?" he asked, looking at them both for confirmation. They both nodded. "Well, he had taken up a temporary curacy in a little place called Monkford, and while I was on leave - freshly made but with no where to go - I decided to visit him for we had not seen each other in over a year. His curacy, was near a place called Kellynch. You could not call it a town, nor even, a village for there is no main shopping district nor large grouping of houses. Though the area did boast quite a few…large properties. And that was where she was from."_

"_And her name?" Matthews asked._

"_Anne," Frederick said, a small smile grace his lips when he said her name. "Anne Elliot."_

Frederick was snapped out of his musings by the others coming back up from the waters edge and the necessary introductions had to be made. Harville, he noticed, had still been carrying on a light conversation with Anne till his attention was called away. He frowned a little when Harville said something and the two of them shared a small laugh together.

The arrival of the others caused Anne to fade into the background, something that did not escape Harville's notice. He didn't like that fact that she was placed at the back like an after thought. He wondered whether she had been thought of when the trip had been planned, or merely brought along for the convenience.

During a break in the conversation he was having with Charles Musgrove and what type of sport they had in the area, Harville cut a glance at Frederick and was fairly surprised to see him receiving attentions from young Louisa Musgrove though at the same time occasionally looking in the direction of Anne Elliot to gage her reaction. Miss Anne, Harville noticed, appeared to be unmoved by the display that Louisa was putting on and unaware of the continuous glances she was receiving from Frederick.

She in fact, seemed unaware of those around her, and went unnoticed by those around her (barring Frederick, and himself), unless she was called upon for something. Had Harville not known that she was related to the family, he might think she was no more than an aide, or at most a companion. Paid to be there. And that didn't sit well with him, and it surprised him. Especially after what Frederick had told him many years ago, aboard the Laconia.

"_So," said Harville, "we finally learn this mystery woman's name. You said the area had some large property on it, is it safe to assume she came from one of these?"_

_Frederick nodded as he took a sip from his cup, "The biggest in the area. Kellynch Hall. Her father, Sir Walter Elliot, is the current Baronet."_

"_So she was part of the aristocracy?"_

_Frederick nodded, "Though, if you had met her out in the street you would not think it. She is educated yes, but she does not give herself airs nor look down on anyone because of their situation. Especially when it is so different from hers. No, had you met her and not known her name nor whence she came from, you might think her a county lass or a girl from the middle class simply going about her business."_

"_I take it that was your first impression when you first met her?" Matthews stated, kicking of his shoes and placing his feet up on an unused chair._

"_I though her beautiful," Frederick replying honestly, getting caught up in the memory. "And charming, and kind." he chuckled, "And intelligent. I had never once, and never since, had a conversation with a woman about the current state of affairs overseas."_

"_How did they two of you meet?" Harville asked._

"_I had been out on a walk in the country around Monkford when the rain had started. I made in back to the house and was just through the door when another knock upon it sounded and I opened to find her there, her cloak held over her head to try and stave of the rain." he chuckled again. "I do not know which one of us was more shocked, she had clearly not been expecting anyone except the housekeeper, or perhaps my brother."_

_He remembered well the look of shock on her face, and he actually saw her check the door for the name branded upon it to make sure that she had got the right address._

"_You must be looking for my brother," he had said, stepping aside to allow her through and to give him room to shut the door against the elements. "Mr Wentworth, the curate here?"_

"_Yes," she had managed to say before the housekeeper was upon them._

"_Oh Miss Anne, what have you done to yourself?"_

"_Tis nothing but a little rain Mrs Hutton," she had said to the old woman with a smile._

"_A little rain," Mrs Hutton had scoffed, "It that's a little rain, then I'm only a little bit past my 21__st__ birthday."_

"_And here I thought you where younger," Frederick had said, earning him a disproving glare._

_She had frowned at him, as Anne had turned away to hide a smile, "Now you behave yourself Captain, or you'll be out on your ear, and don't think just because your brothers the curate here that your lodgings are safe. If I wanted you out, he wouldn't stand in my way. Now dear," she said, turning back to Anne, "Let me take that cloak from you to dry in front of the fire. We cant have you catching cold now."_

_Anne untied her cloak and handed it other, "Would you mind taking these as well?" she asked, holding out a basket filled with clothing. "I had heard that Mrs Hall wasn't too well and thought that maybe she could do with some new clothing for her children. I thought best to bring it here though, that she might not have accepted it had I brought it to her personally. Besides," she said, giving him a sideways glance after realising that she had been talking for a while "Mr Wentworth would best now if they would be much use to her, or maybe to someone else."_

_Mrs Hutton took the basket with a smile, "You're a good child," she told her, "And we're blessed to have you in the neighbourhood."_

_Anne blushed at this and Frederick felt his stomach turn._

"_Now, come and sit in the lounge and I'll bring you something warm up," and she started to lead Anne down the hall. While walking away, Anne turned to look at him before quickly turning around and following the housekeeper further into the house._

_Frederick stood by the door for a short time, bemused by the recent events, before shaking himself out. He removed his sodden jacket and hung it up on a peg by the door, before heading down the hall and to the lounge so that he might converse a little more with the enchanting creature he had barely met in the doorway._

_He reached the lounge just as Mrs Hutton was coming out. Seeing him, she pointed and told him to behave, before she left for the kitchens. Anne's cloak in one hand, the basket she had brought in the other._

_He had paused only a moment at the door, running a hand through his hair and attempting to set it in order._

_Though he we staying there, he knocked on the door before entering, not wishing to disturb her form anything she might be doing. He chided himself a second later though wondering what on earth she could have been doing._

"_Do you mind if I join you?" he asked._

"_This is your brothers house," she had said to him politely amused at him. "You do not have to ask my permission to do anything."_

"_Yes," he had said, coming further into the room and taking a seat near the fire, opposite from where she sat, "But you may not want my company."_

"_I do not think, Captain, that I have had the experience of being in your company long enough, to decide whether I desire it or not."_

"_Shall we make a start on that then?" he asked her, smiling. "I am truly not that terrible, though I can sometimes go on a little about the sea and my life upon it. You have my permission to ask for a change of subject if I do."_

"_I believe, Captain Wentworth, that I should very much like to here about the navy and your travels over the sea. Tell me," she said, leaning forward ever so slightly, "Do you think we shall go to war?"_

_Frederick could not think of a time in his life when he had ever been so amazed, and it delayed his reactions. He had merely smiled at her for a few seconds, causing a blush that he was beginning to love, to spread across her cheeks and down her neck, before putting her out of her misery by talking._

_They had talked a great deal when Mrs Hutton re-entered the room with hot tea and pasties. She had glanced between the two of them, but said nothing and when they had thanked her, started their conversation back up._

_Edward arrived home shortly after the rain had eased, trailing off into fine mist, to find them in deep conversation about the current events in France and who it might effect each of them and the country as a whole._

_Overall, Anne stayed at the parsonage for well over two hours before noticing the time on the clock and stating that she had better be on her way, before she was late for dinner. Both men had been sad to see her go (one more than the other) and she promised them both that she would call later on in the week._

_She declined both men when they insisted that they escort her home, declaring that she would go faster on her own and it was not really that far anyway._

_Frederick had watched go till he could see her no more, which wasn't very far with a fine layer of mist settling in over the countryside._

"_She is a good sort," Edward had said after they had seen her off and Frederick had returned indoors. "Though from what I have heard, and observed myself, she is taken for granted by her family. When they pay any attention to her at all that is."_

"_I haven't met them yet, have it?" he had asked._

"_No," Edward said, leading the way to the small study, "Though you will see them tomorrow night. The Elliot's, barring Miss Anne, do not grace us with their presence very often but they attend the few winter balls that are given annually each year."_

"_Then I shall look forward to it, if she shall be there."_

_It was at that time, that Edward had stopped in the doorway of his study, and given Frederick the only piece of advice, or warning, that he did through the whole course of the time he had spent there. "Do not rush into anything Frederick. Remember that you have just been made a Captain of the Navy, and with war looking ever more likely, have the possibility of being called away at any moment."_

_Frederick had smiled at his brother and told him not to worry, he would not rush. He was to be there for many months yet and if something did occur then he would let it over many of those months._

_Even as he said that though, he already knew that it was too late. His heart had fallen and the rest of him was surely bound to catch up, and sooner rather than later._

As they returned to Harville's residence and where introduced to his family and to Captain Benwick, Frederick found himself in the company of Harville. Both men stood a little way away from the main crowd who had gathered round and watched as Anne drew Benwick out of his mood and into a animated discussion on poetry.

"She is a good soul," Harville remarked as he saw a smile grace Benwick's face over something she said to him. "I do not think I have seen him so…lively in many weeks. Perhaps even months."

Frederick only nodded to this.

"Though I should not be surprised that she has sought him out, given her nature. You always described it as such - caring, always giving to others but not taking for herself."

Frederick sighed.

"Did you know?" he said, tilting his head in Harville's direction and speaking in a low tone. "That I had not thought back upon that night, that week, till your enquiry as to her being this afternoon."

"That does not surprise me as much as you might think, my friend. For I remember your hesitance and unwillingness to speak on the matter."

"Damn Matthews and his French wine," Frederick muttered. Harville let out a low laugh.

"Even you have to admit, Frederick, that it was good wine."

"You could have told that to my head the previous morning," Frederick groaned.

"He was determined to know the whole truth and nothing but," Harville explained, "And I must admit, I was curious myself." He paused and looked at the person sitting beside him; his sometime Captain and long time friend. "How has it been, being back in her company?"

Frederick, who's gaze had fallen down to the cup he held in his cup, happened to look up as a low laugh went up in the corner that Benwick and Anne had claimed as their own. Anne, looking over Benwick's shoulder, caught his gaze for a moment before looking quickly away again, the smile on her face now diminished. And when she went back to the conversation again, her tone was lower and expressions more controlled.

Harville frowned at this exchange.

"It has been…strained," Frederick finally admitted. Turning to his friend after continuing to stare in her general direction. "Mostly we do not converse, nor spend a lot of time in close company."

"And who decides that?"

"Pardon?"

"Do you avoid her? Or is it the other way round?" Harville wanted to know.

Frederick thought on it. "A little bit of both I imagine. We do not seek one another out,"

"Though you do keep a close eye on her," his friend remarked. "And do not bother to deny it, Frederick. Although you do not pay any direct attention to her, I see you watching her. Are you trying to make her jealous by flaunting Miss Musgrove at her?"

"Flaunting? Harville I'm doing no such thing."

Just as he was about to open his mouth and tell his friend exactly what he had been doing, Margaret called him over.

"I am not done with you yet my friend," Harville told him as he got up to do his wife's bidding, "Enjoy your reprieve while you can."


	4. Chapter 4

_I'm working on getting all of my stories updated, but its going to take me a while. I might decide to put Food for Thought on Hiatus for the time being as that is the one that is causing me the most problems at the moment._

_I see two more chapters in this story, after this. I've got to bring Matthews back, he's my one original character and I'm sticking him in everywhere I can. He's going to pop up in quite an important role in Return to Lyme._

* * *

As it turned out, Harville did not get a chance to speak with Frederick again till well after the original conversation had taken place. Louisa's fall, and subsequent recovery saw to that.

It was not till a week had passed, eventful yet uneventful, when the two men found themselves sitting down beside one another one evening. Neither had any chores to be done, nor any duties to perform. They sat together round the small oval shaped table in the Harville's living area, with a bottle of port and simply enjoyed the calm that settled over the night.

Harville held up his glass, "To her recovery," he said. Frederick echoed him and they brought their glasses together with a clink, before each took a drink.

"I must admit, Frederick," Harville began, leaning back in his chair and shuffling to get comfy. "That I was not convinced at the beginning, but she shall make you an excellent wife."

Frederick merely nodded. It did not surprise him that Harville thought that. He was a smart man, and intelligent man. He was well versed at reading people and he had to have seen how she was.

She had always been so.

* * *

_The rain had stopped long before Frederick and Edward left for an evening of dancing and socialising, though the roads where in terrible condition, each man having to guide his horse carefully around the pot holes that had appeared where the earth had been displaced._

_Once or twice the men even had to move off to the side of the road whilst a carriage passed them, obliviously going in the same direction, to avoid from being splattered with mud._

_They made it to the dance just as it was starting, the string quartet brought in to serenade them had finished tuning and where just starting a steady country tune to indicate the immanent start of the dancing._

_Frederick spotted her almost straight away, standing over at the other side of the room, engaged in conversation with a two elder women._

_She was dressed to suit her station, but not in an outrageous, flaunting way as others in the room where. Frederick suspected that many didn't get the chance to show of their wealth and fashion styles often, and that these country dances where as close as many of them got to the assemblies held by those in the high social circles in Town._

_She obviously felt his stare from across the room, as her head lifted and her eyes locked with his. The smile that she sent his way, sent his heart into spasm and he couldn't hold back the smile that split his face open._

"_Come on," Edward said to him with a shake of his head, giving Frederick a gentle push. "I have to introduce you to several people."_

"_Miss Elliot?" Frederick asked hopefully, following his brother into the crowd after a nod in the said woman's direction._

"_I think it would be a good idea to reintroduce the two of you," Edward replied as he spotted someone he wished to talk with. "I'm not sure how some in the area would react to hearing the two of you met one another unescorted."_

"_I'm a Navy Captain, not a vagabond," Frederick replied quietly as the advanced on a small group of men._

_If Edward heard him, he gave no heed to his younger brothers comment. Frederick stood rather quietly as Edward spoke with his parishioners, willing the conversation to go a little quicker so that they could take a turn about the room._

_He didn't need to worry though, as just seconds after his thoughts turned to the other side of the room, and the woman sitting there, she was by his side and conversing with the small group._

"_Ah, Miss Anne. How are you today my dear?" one of the men asked, taking her hand and pulling her to his side._

"_I am very well, thank you Mr Musgrove," she said to him, her eyes travelling to the other men in the group, all of whom bowed at her in welcome. "Mr Wentworth," she said, fixing Edward with a smile, "I hope you got the donations I left at the parish yesterday. I completely forgot to mention them with all the fuss Mrs Hutton was making."_

"_I did get them, Miss Anne, thank you for your generosity."_

"_It was nothing, Mr Wentworth, I assure you." She said, glancing at his brother that stood next to him, silently enjoying the conversation in the way that it allowed him the time to just study her._

"_I don't think you've been properly introduced to my brother," Edward said, motioning to man standing love struck, to his left. "Miss Elliot, may I introduce my younger brother, Captain Frederick Wentworth of the Royal Navy."_

"_Miss Elliot," Frederick said on queue, taking her hand in his and bowing over it._

"_It is a pleasure to meet you, Captain."_

_Frederick straightened, her hand still in his and his eyes holding hers._

"_Would care for a dance, Miss Elliot?" he asked hopefully. "Providing your dance card is not full already."_

_She took a quick look at their still linked hands, before looking up at him with a smile on her face that signalled her true delight at his suggestion._

"_I would love too."_

* * *

"Yes," Harville said, continuing. Completely unaware that Frederick was off on his own little world. "Now, all you shall have to do is wait till she is better and speak with her." Frederick spluttered.

"Pardon?"

"Miss Louisa," Harville said, fixing him with a confused stare. "It is such a shame she was injured when she was. Lyme would have been the perfect place for a romantic proposal."

"Harville," Frederick interrupted. He leant forward on his chair, his eyes wide. "What the devil are you talking about?"

"You, and Miss Louisa." Harville replied. "Why? What where you talking about?"

"You think there's something going on between myself and Miss Louisa?"

"Isn't there?"

"NO!"

Harville contemplated the glass in his hand before taking a swig. "Are you sure?" he asked.

"I think I would know if there was. Lord Harry," he said, picking up the pitcher that sat on the table and using it to refill both their glasses. "What on earth would give you that idea?"

"It might have been the way you have been…attached to her since you have been here. I just assumed," Harville trailed off and looked down at his half full glass. "I know I am not the only one."

Frederick sighed.

"Who else?"

"I think the better question Frederick, would be who hasn't?" Once Harville realised how deep his friend seemed to be without realising it, he decided that Frederick needed the complete truth. "I know for certain that had she not been incapacitated, her family would be expecting an announcement any day now."

Frederick drained his glass in one go before refilling it and taking another swig. This wasn't going how he planned.


	5. Chapter 5

_The Hiatus of Food for Thought is more to do with Real Life rather than anything else. I know, in a broad sense, where I want to take it, its just finding the time to write it all out. Uni is over after this week though, so hopefully there shall be more time for more pleasurable pursuits._

_This story is getting precedence over FFT as it is shorter and will hopefully be quicker to get finished. I have so many stories that need finishing, and so many more that are clambering to get out of my head._

_On that note, does anyone fancy a modern day Persuasion story from me? I have the brief idea about one, but don't know if people would like it as people usually write modern ones and forget about the originals, and I kind of like the originals. And there are less of them about._

_Your thoughts?_

_Updated due to a continuity error - Thanks to for pointing that out to me!_

* * *

As Frederick passed through Plymouth, he thought it very much similar to what it had been like the last time he had been there, almost ten years ago.

The weather was similar. It had rained steadily since he had had the city within his sights and had not stopped since. The winds blowing in off the channel did not help either and by the time he had found himself riding about the inner city, he was soaked to the bone and in desperate need of a warm bath.

Though at this point, he would settle for a warm drink. Or perhaps several.

His horse picked his way carefully through the near empty market stalls, mindful of the occasional child that scampered around his legs and the boxes that had been left laying around. Frederick pulled him to a stop several times so that he could peer out from beneath his wide brimmed hat and check the name of the street that they where going down. In this weather he did not want to get lost.

The bustling port city was filled with those in trade, those who rode the waves and those who profited from both, and brought the others together. It was a city one could disappear in is they so desired. Catch a ship out of there and sail to distant lands, where your troubles melted away with the landscape, the people or the local alcoholic concoction.

How easy it would be to find himself a commission on a ship right now, how easy it would be to slip away out over the waves and leave this whole sordid mess behind him. Except he couldn't. He occasionally allowed his gaze to settle longingly on a nearby inn, but he kept going. He had a destination and he was determined to make it there.

That night if possible.

He had been raised a good man, an honest man. First by his parents and then by his elder sister and brother, and however this situation turned out, he would honour the end result. Whatever it might be.

His chest constricted at the thought of how it might turn out, how he might be in her company often but be unable to open himself fully to her, unable to tell her how he really felt, about how stupid he has been over the last couple of months.

_"Anne"_ he thought silently, _"What have I done?"_

* * *

Being a Doctor, John Matthews was used to being interrupted by strange requests and random people calling at his door. Since moving though, and taking on a different level of patients, he had hoped that the late night calls might lessen somewhat, if not stopping altogether.

He had been quite happy in the house that they had had, but it had been Sally that had insisted they move. They where no longer thinking of just themselves she had said, and he knew she had been right. Although the area they had been in had not been bad, they had been in close quarters and the threat of disease had been more common. They had decided to move and with the recommendation of several friends, and his father in law, John had secured a reasonable client base and they did quite well for themselves.

It he was quite honest with himself though, he missed the hustle and bustle of being a regular surgeon within the heart of the city he had come to call home. He missed the sea as well, and the endless views out to the English Channel did not harm the city's charm.

Their current house sat on the top of a small hill, no more than a mound really, but it gave them a small advantage over others in the area and Matthews had set up a telescopic lens in one of the upper floor rooms and often spent his free moments watching the ships coming and going.

Matthews was pulled out his day dreams of the sea and the ships that sailed upon it, by a knocking at the door. Placing his glass down, he got up from his chair and headed for the door.

They had a man, George, who answered the door and such, but late night callers generally required his attention sooner or later and he found that if he got to the door before he was called for, it saved a lot of time and hassle.

George was a tall, broad man and his bulk drowned out the figure out by the door, who appeared to be speaking loudly over the weather that raged outside. A horse standing in the background caught Matthews attention and he thought it seemed familiar.

"I'm an acquaintance of Dr Matthews," he heard a very familiar voice say.

"Is it a medical emergency, sir?" George asked, warily eying the new comer. He knew all of the Doctors, and the Mrs' acquaintance in the area and this man was not one of them. Nor had they let him know of any out of town visitors that might be calling.

"George," Matthews said, stepping up behind the man and laying a hand on his arm, turning him to the side so that he might see past him. "Frederick!" he exclaimed on laying eyes upon the man standing in the rain.

"George, put a coat on and stable the horse," John said quickly, grabbing a coat from one of the pegs situated near the door. "Frederick come in and warm up, I would hate to have to treat you for a fever." He then smiled, remembering a similar illness many years ago "And we both know what happened the last time that happened."

Frederick shot his old friend a look before handing off his reigns and stepping inside. The rain water ran from his clothes and formed puddles on the floor.

"When did you move?" Frederick finally said as he began to remove his sodden outer clothes.

John laughed. "I had forgotten I had not let you know about that yet," he said, laughing.

"It would have saved me some time getting here," Frederick told him, shaking off his boats and setting them by the others that lined the wall.

Matthews was about to answer when he heard his name being called by someone and turning, he found his wife standing at the foot of the stairs with a shawl wrapped around her shoulders. "John?"

Matthews smiled. "You remember my wife, don't you Frederick?"

"I was at the wedding Matthew's" Frederick said dryly to him before bowing in the direction of the Doctors wife. "I'm sorry about dropping in unannounced, Mrs Matthews."

"You know better Frederick," she replied, coming and standing by her husband, "It is Sally, and you are welcome to stop by any time you like. I'm just sorry you weren't able to find us sooner. Especially in this weather" she added as a sudden flash lit up the sky.

"I'll admit," he said to her, "It would have saved me some time, and I might have been able to appear at your door not looking like a drowned rat."

Sally Matthews smiled at the man who stood in her entranceway, looking as though he had gone for a dip in the channel, fully clothed.

"I'll go and get some of Johns things for you to wear, and get Nancy to draw up a hot bath. You will be staying the night?" she asked, though already knowing the answer.

"If its no bother, ma'am."

"There's always room for you here Frederick, you know that." Sally said before she headed up the stairs and out of sight.

Matthews raised his eyebrows.

"If she wasn't already married to me, I'd be thinking she had a thing for you, Frederick," he said, smiling.

He watched as his friends face darkened before a look of absolute despair took its place.

"Frederick?" Matthews enquired, concerned.

"I've messed it all up John," he said simply, running a hand over his eyes.

"Messed what up?" the Doctor pressed.

"My life."


	6. Chapter 6

_Either you guys leave really, really, good reviews, or I'm just incredibly emotional, cause I keep ending up with tears in my eyes. I'm going to go with the former :)_

_On the subject of "Return to Lyme", I have at least four chapters finished for that but I don't have the two in between chapters done. Chapters one and two are on here, then five plus are saved on my computer. It sucks when your writing goes like that but I'm doing my best to fill the gap in._

_Modern story, right. I'm not even going to give a rough date for it, as I have a load more stories to finish first, but it will definitely be something to watch out for in the future._

* * *

It was not until the morning when Matthews managed to get Frederick to talk about what he meant. Sally had reappeared at the top of the stairs not long after she had left and had said that his bath was almost ready. Excusing himself, Frederick had plodded up the stairs after her. Continually apologising for dripping on the carpet as he went.

After his bath, they had sent him something to eat and the when the maid returned to pick up the plates half an hour later, she had found him passed out from exhaustion on the bed.

He slept soundly right through to morning.

If was long past breakfast when Frederick finally descended from his room and walked into the parlour to find the former surgeon of the Laconia, Dr John Matthews sitting with his feet up and nose buried in a newspaper. His wife was no where in sight.

"Ah, Frederick," Matthews said as he entered the room. "Nice of you to finally join us this morning."

Frederick sat down heavily on a chair and sighed. Pinching the bridge of his nose. "Your humour is completely wasted in the medical profession, John. Have you ever given thought to joining the theatre? Or the circus perhaps?"

Matthews smiled. "I see you are still as charming in the mornings, as you where all those years ago."

"No one else ever complained about my mood in the mornings, John. It must have just been you."

The Doctor folded up the paper he had been reading, and inclined his head towards a covered platter on the table. "Sally insisted we keep you some breakfast aside. If you require anything else, I can have someone fetch it for you."

Lifting up the cover and finding more than enough food, Frederick shook her head. "This shall do."

Matthews sat in silence as his friend helped himself to a hearty breakfast. He had no idea how far Frederick had travelled the day before, but he thought it must have been a great distance. The last he had heard of him, he had been travelling to Somerset to visit his sister and brother in law.

He also had no idea why he had travelled the distance to see him. Had Fredericks arm been hanging by a few sinews of flesh and turning green with infection; he might have had an inclining on why he was visiting, but as Frederick seemed to be in perfect health, Matthews was struggling to think up a reason that would have his friend travel so many miles in this atrocious weather.

The Doctor was a kind man though, so he let his friend finish his mid morning snack before settling back and fixing him with a stare as Frederick stood by the window.

"So," John began, "Are you going to tell me why you have come to see me, or do I have to guess. And" he continued "If I guess right, do I get some sort of prize?"

Frederick returned to a seat the other side of the fire and opposite Matthews. The later having rooted around in a small chest on the floor by his chair, brought out a decanter of port and two silver cups.

"Or," he continued, "He I have to get you drunk, like last time?"

Frederick took the cup from Matthews and settled himself heavily in the opposite chair. He took a swig and held the cup out for a refill. John raised his eyebrows in question.

"It'll help loosen my tongue," Frederick told him, gesturing with his cup. John filled up his friends cup without further question before settling back into his own seat.

"You said last night that, 'you'd messed it all up'?" Matthews began, and Frederick let out a bark of a laugh.

"Starting of with the easy questions I see."

"You came to me my friend, you want to talk about it."

Frederick nodded, "I know, but can we work up to it. I'm still going over it all in my head."

Matthews took a sip of his port and acquiesced, "If that is what you wish. How is your sister and the admiral doing? Have they settled into life on terra firma?"

"As much as they can." Frederick told him. "What about you?" he asked, making a show of looking round the room, "You seem to be coping well with a life on solid ground."

"It has its advantages. This house was Sally's idea though, she wanted some space for when Matthew junior makes an appearance."

"Yet another thing you have failed to mention," he held his cup up in a toast, "Congratulations."

Matthews held his cup aloft before taking a drink. "And before you ask, no. Just because Harville did, I'm not naming the child Frederick."

This got a small laugh from his friend. "I was not expecting you to. It might have caused some problems should the child turn out to be a girl."

They fell silent once again and the Doctor took the time to study his friend. "I am going to take a simple guess here and say that your problem has something to do with a woman?" Frederick nodded but didn't say anything.

"Could this be the same woman we talked about those many years ago?"

Frederick sighed. "She has something to do with it."

"Is she married?" A shake of the head.

"Did you ask her to marry you, and she turned you down?" More shaking, no and a drink.

Matthews paused a moment before asking his next, "Is she dead?"

"No, god no."

"Frederick. If you want to talk, you're going to have to give me more than single word answers and head movements. Despite claims to the contrary, I cant read minds."

"Where do you want me to start?" Wentworth asked as he held out his hand for the decanter, intent on filling his glass again. Matthews reluctantly handed it to him.

"The beginning is always a good start," and Frederick let out a hollow laugh.

"You heard the beginning five years ago. If you've forgotten it…I'm not going over it again. It haunts me enough as it is."

"I remember," Matthews said quietly, then held his tongue. Frederick obviously wanted to talk about something, so he gave him the chance.

"It…it all started about 6 months ago…"

_Conversation, or no conversation and on with the_ _story? Up to you guys._


	7. Chapter 7

_Have you ever tried to type without having the use of your thumb? Its not as easy as you think it should be. I wont go into what I've done to my thumb apart from to say that I haven't broken it and it was painful._

_I went with arsepoetica's idea and followed my muse. Which has decided to go between the two and have Matthews give Frederick a bit of a telling off. Or at least a straightening out._

* * *

"And," Frederick finished wearily, "Here I am."

The story that had started off its life in a small village in Somerset, which had then taken a small detour to the seaside town of Lyme, had finally made its way down to Plymouth. It wasn't yet finished, and Matthews was certain that it was just a continuation, or a second part, or the one he had heard a little over five years ago. It was no where near finished and there was a small part of him that asked, would it ever be finished?

The Doctor had found it difficult to refrain from speaking during the whole time his friend had been talking. There where lots of things that just didn't make sense to John. How could this man sit in front of him and proclaim his love for one woman, whilst hurting her by flouncing about with another right in front of her eyes?

Matthews wasn't sure if this Miss Elliot felt anything for his friend anymore and he, nor Frederick for that matter, could really blame her if she didn't. After all, no woman wanted to have an old love constantly throwing his new one in her face, even if Frederick hadn't meant for it to go anywhere.

The Doctor sat down his cup. Pursing his lips, he looked across at his friend and former Captain; a man he had come to respect, admire and love as a brother.

"What is it that you want me to say Frederick? Because, to be perfectly honest with you, you've behaved no better than a worthless cad."

Frederick glared at him. "Don't hold back John."

"I'm not going to sit here and praise you Frederick, I'm surprised the young woman still speaks to you let alone remains in the same social circle as you. Had I been her, I would have tried to get as far away from you as soon as I possibly could. What would you have done then? Would you have followed in an attempt to explain your actions? Or let her go?"

"I don't know."

"It would be entirely your own fault Frederick, would she never want anything to do with you ever again."

Frederick dropped his head into his hands. "What am I going to do?" he asked in a hollow voice, not raising his head.

"I think you know what you have to do," Matthews told him truthfully. "If the young woman you have been cavorting round with pushes for a proposal, then that is what you should give her. If by some…miracle things settle down and the attachment she feels to you hopefully lessens a bit, then you should waste no time in going after the woman you really want. If you don't, you will regret it the rest of your life."

Matthews paused. There had been a reason Frederick had come to see him. Plymouth was in the opposite direction from Shropshire, and there was only one or two reasons on why his friend might first visit him before his brother. One would have been if he had been suffering from a medical problem.

Apart from a broken heart, which the Doctor was unable to do anything about, he seamed in perfect health.

John had no doubt that Edward would listen to what his brother had to say and advise him the best he could. Edward would be angry at him for leading on another when he knew he couldn't commit to her, but he wouldn't be able to give him the talking too that he deserved. He'd call him a fool and then pray to G--, but unless G-- was going to smite Frederick down where he stood it wouldn't do much good. No, although he didn't really want to hear it, he had come here to be told the cold hard truth and that was what he was going to get.

He leaned forward on his chair and drew Frederick's gaze, "Like you have been regretting it ever since the moment you left that drawing room eight years ago without a backwards glance. When being half way around the world didn't lessen the pangs of a aching heart. You're an idiot Frederick, a damn right fool and at this very moment I am ashamed to know you."

They where silent then, locked together in a seemingly never ending stare. It was Frederick who broke off first. Draining his cup of its remaining amount, he set it on the table beside his chair and looked back.

"I'm sorry," he said, his head dropping once more.

"I am not the one who you need to be saying that too," Matthews said honestly.

Silence again, and then Frederick got to his feet.

"I'll get out of your way," he said and took several unsteady steps towards the door.

"Yes," the Doctor agreed. "I think bed would be a good choice for you now." But Frederick was shaking his head.

"No, I'll go. I need to be off to Edwards anyway. He's expecting me."

"You want to ride, all the way to Shropshire, in the state you are in?" Matthews asked. He stood up himself and moved to stand by his friend, taking a hold of his arm. "Don't be stupid."

"I thought that's what I was being?" Frederick asked, puzzled.

"If I let you go now, and you fall of your horse somewhere down the road then Sally will never forgive me."

And with that he opened the door before slinging his arm around Fredericks weight and ducking under his arm, before leading him down the hallway and up the stairs. "Honestly, I sometimes wonder if that girl only married me in the hope that she would see you more."


	8. Chapter 8

_Thank you for all the great reviews for this. You all brighten my day, and boy do I need it brightened today. Why must some people insist on talking about you behind your back? Its not nice and not smart. I'm not a vengeful person, nor one to hold a grudge but I'm pissed off._

_End of rant._

_Including this chapter, there are definitely three chapters left but I might add on an extra one. I suck at ending stories, and while I know that is going to happen from here to the end, I don't know how we're going to end._

* * *

Matthews and his wife worked together and managed to convince Frederick to stay with them for another two nights while he worked off the after effects of the liquor he had ingested and any symptoms of the storm he had been caught in on the way to their house.

By the Thursday, he was on his way to Edwards Parish in Shropshire; a quite, medium sized village in the south of the county that took Frederick two days to reach from Plymouth. By the time he got there late on Saturday, Edward was glad to see him but unable to go into depth in conversation due to his having a sermon to deliver the next morning.

Frederick sat in the front church pew next to his brothers wife, Lauren, listening to his brother go on and on about the subject of forgiveness and briefly registered Edward saying that the following weeks service would be about the subject of jealousy.

He spent Sunday afternoon meeting people around the parish before having dinner with his new sister in laws family in their house at the other end of the village, so there was no chance to talk with his brother then.

Frederick found that the time he spent on his own was beneficial though, and it allowed him to think through the situation he had gotten himself into and what the outcome might be. He tried to ready himself to a life with a woman he only found amiable. There was no use in fooling himself; he was not in love with Louisa and there was no guarantee that, over time, he would find himself so. If they where to be married though, he could not - would not - allow her to feel as though she was second best.

He would lavish her with all the attention she required. They where friends already and that is what they would be. He could see himself becoming fond of her, he already was, but love. He wasn't sure if his heart would be able to reach out to another.

When he finally talked to Edward about it, he was mostly decided.

He would give it a month before heading back to see the Musgrove's. Should Louisa still expect him too, then he would propose marriage to her and go through the rituals associated with marriage. He would be honest with her before hand though, let her know that although he cared for her, his heart belonged in whole to another and that perhaps she should wait for someone better to come along. Someone who could give her what she truly deserved.

Should he return, speak to her to find that she no longer felt for him what she had done in the pass, then he would apologise to her before making his way as quickly as possible to Bath where he would attempt to distinguish whether or not Anne had any feelings left for him.

His biggest worry was that she had moved on. He couldn't even begin to imagine what the past month or so must have been like for her, to have been around all the talk and suspicion; to have been asked her opinion on the match.

Harville's letter came late in the afternoon of his second week with his brother and sister. He was hiding out in the orchard when the young boy that Edward hired to help him around the house, came bounding to him, letter in hand.

It was long after the letter had been in his hands that he finally got up the courage to open it and read its contents. This small, insignificant piece of paper was possibly going to decide his future, and who he might spend it with.

Finding a comfy, dry spot below one of the tree's, he gingerly split the seal and pulled the pages apart. Harville had a good hand and the words where there in black ink, clear to make out, but still completely foreign to him.

It took him four tries before he was sure that he had read everything correctly.

Louisa was to marry Benwick. James Benwick.

He could hardly believe his eyes. Of all the possible outcomes, all the possible events that could occur out of this, he had never even of thought of that one. It was, unbelievable.

Leaving the sanctity of the orchard, he quickly made his way back down to the house his brother resided in. Once inside and free of his muddy boots - on the housekeepers insistence - he made his way to Edwards study and bade him to read the letter. Just to make sure he had not been seeing things.

Once Edward had confirmed it, he finally felt himself breath a little easier, as though a weight had been removed from his chest. He wanted to sing, he wanted to dance; he wanted to be in Bath already, to be near her, to see her, to hear of her. That was what he wanted.

Anne.

His brother was able to persuaded him to stay one night further, stating that if he stayed the night then he would be able to be in Bath by tomorrow afternoon in one days ride rather than having to stop for the night.

For the rest of the night he found it very difficult to settle. During dinner he found himself a more willing participant in the conversation round the table, the others being unable to see his leg bouncing up and down with shear nervous energy.

He shared a good cider and talk with his brother that night before going to bed. They talked a little more about the past and Fredericks plans for the future. They did not shy away from any subjects, and Edward found himself asking what he would do, should Anne not return his feelings, or have given them up to another?

"Then I shall be happy because she is happy," he said truthfully. "I shall drink to missed chances and rue what a fool I have been, but as long as she is happy, then I will be content. I should then make my way to the nearest port, find a ship that shall carry me and sail off into the distance and spend my days in far off places. "

"And if another comes along?"

Frederick shook his head. "There will be no other. It would not be fair to them when my heart still beats for another. It would not be fair to myself."

Although he thought his sleep might be fitful, Frederick slept peacefully through the night. Waking to the cocks crow the next morning, he was up before everyone else in the house apart from the elderly housekeeper, and managed to get everything done that was needed, before sitting down to a hearty breakfast.

Parting from his brother had never been easy. Each time one left the other for some reason or another, it always seemed to span into an absence of several years where correspondence was sporadic and patchy. He was determined, either way, that he would be back to see his brother.

Mounting his horse, he lead the animal down the lane and out of sight, his brother offering up a silent prayer for his brothers safekeeping, and for his heart.

Once out of the sight of the house, after taking one last look at the safe haven he had called home for the past four weeks, he spurred his horse into a trot and quickly left the small village behind.

He was on his way to Bath.


	9. Chapter 9

_Other stories? I have other stories that need updating? :p_

_I swear to you that I am working on getting things updated. Return to Lyme might be the next one, which I'm sure some of you will be disappointed about as you'd prefer FFT. I actually looked over FFT a while back and I never realised how good it is. Not to blow my own trumpet or anything, but I really like it._

_Now the problem is that I'll have to take extra time and care with FFT as not to spoil it._

* * *

Edward had been right, as usual, and he had made it to Bath within the day and even managed to make it to his sister and brother-in-laws place of residence in time to sit down and have dinner with them. His sister, although slightly taken aback by his sudden arrival, had not been too surprised that he had made his way to Bath. She had expected him too over the course of the next week or so.

On his first trip out of the house, the day after his arrival, was wet. He soon learnt that it was the usual weather situation and had quickly procured himself a umbrella.

It was while out on that walk, that he met her.

He had not been expecting it, that much was clear from his reaction, and afterwards he cursed himself for his inability to string together a couple of sentences. He must have sounded like a right old fool. There had been no time to recollect himself though, and while he thought they had been slowly making progress with one another in that short time, it was all halted by the arrival of Mr Elliot. Or who he assumed was Mr Elliot from the way that others around him where talking.

He remembered their brief meeting on the breaker wall at Lyme and although he had had no more than a quick glance at that man, he had taken an instant dislike to him. To hear now that this man was installing himself closer, and closer within the Elliot family worried him.

The night at the concert hall had been causing him sleepless nights since it had occurred.

The evening had started off so well as well. He had gone knowing that she would be there, and hoping that maybe they would be able to converse at some point through the night. At least, he would be able to observe her and make his own mind up about the rumours that had been flying about town.

He could not have hoped for a better start, than when she stopped him on his way into the halls and proceeded to converse with him. They had even shared a few terse laughs. He had been recognised by her family, something that had never happened before.

He should have realised then that his night was doomed to failure.

The way _he_ had fawned over her, the closeness and obvious camaraderie had sent him into a downward spin. Every time _he_ had leant towards her, had drawn her attention to _him_, Frederick's anger had increased bit by bit; tinged with jealousy.

It had finally come to a head at the interval and while he tried to storm his way out of the hall, she had tried to stop him. It was clear, in retrospect, that she did not want him to leave but at that point the was not thinking clearly. When _he_ had appeared at her shoulder, any progress she might have made in cajoling him to stay, was wiped away and he left. All thoughts of opening his heart to her that night, dashed.

A few days later when they had met one another once again, this time in the company of others they both considered friends, the meeting was more calm. She was more like the young woman he had met eight years ago in her appearance and character.

Their quite talk with one another was cut short by the spectre of he again. And he once more wondered whether the words that where being passed around in town, from one mouth to another, where true.

When the Admiral had called him to the study one morning later on in the week and had asked him to go and speak to her in regards to the Admirals lease, he had almost lost it. Was it not torment enough that he must constantly hear the speculation daily, but to call her out on it because his brother could not wait to see how events played out. He had not been looking forward to the task.

It had played out better than he had expected. Though she did not deny it, the very question seemed to make her pale and shake, with an under current of annoyance. He was sure she about to tell him something that would have settled the matter once and for all, had it not have been for the interruption of Lady Russell.

Their most current meeting had taken place the morning after the conversation and he wasn't yet sure how he should deal with what had occurred. The Admiral still wanted an answer but Frederick wasn't sure he wanted to bring the subject up with her again.

While he was been writing a letter to the frame makers, on behalf of Harville, his friend had drawn Anne into conversation by the window and the only time Frederick had allowed himself to take a look over his shoulder, Harville had smiled at him as he brought the conversation round to topics that involved the heart.

Frederick had tried not to listen, but he found his ears catching even the lightest spoken word that passed between them and felt his heart begin to race. He struggled for a moment as they spoke of things he wished he could comment on and it wasn't until the ink from his pen dripped on the paper, that he realised that he had a tool at his disposal that would allow him to express himself fully.

So followed a few minutes of hastily scribbled writing from his heart.

By the time Harville and his sister had made their intent to leave known, his hands were sweating and his heart was pounding so loudly that he feared it would be heard by those he walked out with. He didn't want to go, but saw no way out of it.

He was mildly surprised he was still standing, his legs having been turned into quivering masses simply by the look she had given him when he had left, as though she didn't want to part from his company just yet even though they had not been in conversation.

He had to go back.

He stopped stock still at the head of the steps down to the road, and it took several moments for both his sister and his friend to realise he was no longer at their side.

"Frederick?" Sophia queried, looking back up at him.

He had eyes only for his friend though. "You're a bastard Harville," he said, shaking his head and small smile playing on his lips as his friend smiled cheerily back up at him.

"Frederick!" Sophia exclaimed. "Watch your tongue."

"I'm sorry, Sophy," he said. His voice sincere. "I'm afraid I shall have to leave you here and entrust you to Harville's care. I have something to take care of."

"I take it you heard?" Harville asked, leaning forward on his stick, a glint in his eye.

"You made it damn difficult for me not to overhear my friend," and here he bounded down the stairs and picked his friend up in a bone crushing hug. "And I thank you for it." he said, gripping his shoulders tightly and giving him a slight shake.

"What are you on about, Frederick?" Sophia asked. She had never seen her brother so…nervously excited. Even more than the day he had been given his first commission aboard a ship had not seen him this animated.

"If all goes well, you shall hear soon enough." He leant over and kissed her cheek. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I believe I forgot my gloves."

"Good luck," Harville called out to him as Frederick took the stairs two at a time, heading back up the stairs and to the room.

His heart was waiting for him.

When he re-entered the room he saw that she had moved closer to where he had been sitting, closer to where he had, unintentionally poured his heart out with paper and ink.

He avoided her direct gaze, he just couldn't meet it right then or he'd never make it out of the room. Not that he wanted to leave as it was but he had to be certain. There would be no use in dropping to his knees in front of her, to proclaim his ever lasting love for her to shot him down and say that it was too late. He had missed the boat. She had moved on.

The letter should do it. Then he would know, and it would either cement up the hairline fractures that lined his heart, or it would shatter it for one final time.

Moving past the desk on his way out he glanced first at Mrs Musgrove and saw her to be occupied with the outside world, before dropping his gaze to Anne and finding their eyes instantly meeting. She had been watching him.

Her eyes dropped quickly to where his hand rested as he drew out the letter hidden under the writing slant before they darted back up his own, a question in her gaze.

'Read it,' his eyes pleaded.

And then he was gone.


	10. Chapter 10

_Woot! We've reached the end and I'm finally able to post!_

_Thank you all so much so staying with me during this. If there's anyone out there who has put this on alerts, but hasn't already reviewed. I'd love to hear what you thought about this; what did you like? What didn't you like?_

_I don't know what else to say but Thank you!_

* * *

It was raining in Bath as the horse drawn coach drew up to the White Hart Inn in the central of the city.

"It always seems to rain when I'm in Bath," the man said to himself as he exited the coach and hurried into the building under the guard of a hastily unfurled umbrella.

Standing just inside the doorway, a servant helped him off with his coat and the master of the inn booked him in for the foreseeable future.

"Shall I show you to your room now sir?" the man of the inn asked as he handed over the key.

Doctor John Matthews shook his head. "I understand you have a privet party currently being held here?" he enquired, "An engagement party?"

"That is correct Sir."

"I wonder if you would mind fetching a Captain Harville for me. He should be attending."

The master of the inn nodded, "I know of Captain Harville, Sir. I'll have someone go get him for you."

Matthews stood in the entrance hall to the White Hart and pondered silently over the letter he had received only two days ago. He still couldn't quite believe that everything had seemed to work out for Frederick. And Benwick! He had been there when the news from home had been broken to the young man, and John found it hard to imagine that the man he had known, had managed to move on with his life so soon.

If it worked out for them, then all the best to him.

Just then a door down the hall swung open and Harville appeared. It took him a few steps to look up, and in the Doctors direction, but once he did he pulled to a stop, clearly taken aback and shocked at his friends appearance. It had been a long time since either had seen the other.

The two men met in good humour, with the familiarity as though they had just seen one other only days before. Not years like it had been.

"What are you doing here?" Harville asked, his hand coming up to grip if friends shoulder as though he couldn't quite believe what his eyes where seeing.

"Frederick wrote to me and said all was well, so here I am."

"Can you believe it?" Harville asked with a shake of the head. "Remember, long ago, when we sat and talked about this all over a casket or two of French wine? Who would have thought that there would be a happy ending to all this."

"Forget long ago," the Doctor said, "I had Frederick spilling his guts to me about this only a month past. No French wine this time though. Only port."

"You saw him? A month ago?"

"Yes. He came by on the way to his brothers. I take it he didn't mention it?" And Harville shook his head.

"Come on," Harville said, turning back round suddenly and heading back towards the room they had taken over and he had just come from, "I'll introduce you."

Matthews left his case at the door with strict instructions to one of the young servant boys to stand guard over it and bring it to him when he requested it.

The room was small, but full of life. There was a small clusters of people dotted here and there, enough people in the room as to make the Doctors entrance go unnoticed by nearly all. It was Anne herself who came forward when he entered with Harville, eager to welcome each new person. Especially those she did not know.

"Captain Harville. I though I had seen to disappear for a while back there," she said as she came to stand with them. "I see you have returned with yet another friend." Then she turned to Matthews, "You sir, must be an acquaintance of Fredericks."

"And you must be Miss Anne Elliot," Matthews said, stepping forward and taking her hand in both of his. "I must say, after hearing so much about you, it's a great pleasure to finally meet you."

"Thank you, I think," she said, looking sideways at Harville who stood at her side before turning back to him. "Mr…?"

"Dr John Matthews at your service ma'am," he said bowing over her hand, his left arm sweeping out in a grand gesture.

"Pleasure to meet you Dr Matthews," Anne said in response, her smile widening. "I take it you are a friend of Fredericks?"

Matthews stood to his full height then. His eyebrows contracted as he looked sideways to Harville, who shrugged, before looking back at Anne.

"He's never mentioned me?" he asked, bewildered.

Anne shook her head. "Not that I recall Dr Matthews."

Matthews frowned and shook his head before he caught sight of Frederick making his way across to them from the other side of the room.

"Are you ashamed of me Frederick?" he asked the other man came to stand with them, taking Anne's hand in his own and bestowing a kiss upon it.

"Ashamed?" Frederick parroted.

"Here I am, telling Miss Elliot what a pleasure it is to finally meet her after hearing so much about her for so long, and I find that you have failed to mentioned me to her. Not even once."

Frederick shrugged. "Your name has just never come up."

Matthews spluttered.

"How could you tell her anything, about anything, and not mention my name?"

"We have had other things to discuss John," Frederick said to him.

"Still," the Doctor began.

"I'm sure your name would have been mentioned soon Dr Matthews. We where just getting round to discussing an invitation list."

"Please Miss Elliot," the Doctor said, instantly loosing is annoyed demeanour and laying on the charm before leaning close. "Call me John, or Matthews."

"Then I must be Anne, Doctor," she said.

"Or Doctor," he said, smiling at her. "Though many people bypass the whole Doctor bit and just call me Matthews,"

"They call you a lot worse as well," Frederick said quietly.

"Ah, Miss Anne," Matthews said as he took her hand from Fredericks and tucked it under his arm, leading her away from where they had been standing and towards a table. "Pay them no head. Frederick's only nervous because of what I could tell you."

"Oh," said Anne as the Doctor pulled out chair for her to sit on. "And what could you tell me sir?" She smiled up at Frederick who came to stand by her chair.

"Stories my dear. Anecdotes, tales,"

"Tall tales," Frederick interrupted.

"But tales none the less," Matthews said, waving a hand at him.

"Frederick hasn't talked much about his adventures on the open seas, Dr Matthews" Anne interjected, looking from one man to the other and avoiding glancing in Harville's direction. The man was grinning like a Cheshire cat.

The look on the Doctors face changed then and he began grinning wildly.

"Then I take it you haven't heard the time we where making our way towards to the island of ----- in the Indies?"

"I haven't heard much about anything really, Doctor." Anne admitted.

"Then Miss Anne, let it be my pleasure to enlighten you. But first I have a gift," he said, pausing for a moment and motioning across the room to a man standing near the door. He brought over a small case. He which Matthews took out a key from his pocket and undid the lock, "Just a small one, in honour of the occasion."

He opened the case then and withdrew a bottle of wine from several that lay cushioned in the specially prepared case.

"I think you'll find that this is an exceptionally good bottle of wine," he said with a smile, handing it across to Frederick who took it and turned it over, reading the label. "French. Lovely vintage."

Matthews could tell the exact moment that Frederick's mind clicked after reading the bottles label, and the other man looked up in belief.

"You kept this?" he said, handing the bottle across to Harville who was craning his neck to get a closer look.

Matthews nodded. "For a special occasion."

Harville laughed. "I'm surprised your stomachs not protesting already Frederick."

"I though we drank all the stuff you had," Frederick said to him.

Matthews shrugged. "I happened to like the wine, so…acquired a few more cases of it."

"From the same ship? The one who had just happened to lose her cargo?"

Anne sat quietly in her seat looking from one man to other, there was clearly something she was missing. "I gather there is a story behind this particular brand of wine?" she asked, eying them all carefully.

"If you wish it my dear, I shall tell you all." Matthews said as he accepted the bottle back and went to the task of uncorking it. "But first, let us have a taste, and a toast."

The cork slid out with minimum fuss and the four of them soon had a full cup of wine sitting in front of each of them. Then the Doctor got to his feet and quickly drew the attention of the whole room.

"I would like to propose a toast," he said, raising his glass high and watching as everyone within the room did the same.

"To Frederick and Anne. Who have proved that one can weather the storm and still make it to the proper port."

"Frederick and Anne."


End file.
